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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126504">The Quiet Room</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/anmaya/pseuds/anmaya'>anmaya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:34:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/anmaya/pseuds/anmaya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverly Crusher is unsure about what is causing Will Riker's illness, but  friends try to help.  Just a quiet little vignette.  Feedback appreciated!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Quiet Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hello, Captain”  Beverly Crusher smiled up Jean Luc Picard from the screen she had been frowning at for the last five minutes.</p><p>“It’s rather late …still working?” He inquired.  She’d been at the staff meeting this morning, and a quick calculation told him that was over twelve hours ago.</p><p>“Oh – I’ve been to the gym and had dinner in ten forward with Keiko and Miles earlier, but I just wanted to pop back in and check on the Commander one more time.”</p><p>Picard nodded his approval.  Whenever possible, he did not like his officers putting in excessively long hours.  He found that for most people, including himself, it was only possible to consistently perform well when one took time to recharge.  “…and how is our first officer doing this evening?”</p><p>Beverly raised her shoulders for a moment and then let them drop with a soft sigh.  “The same.  I just can’t figure it out.  His vitals are all good and from what my tricorder tells me he should be conscious and arguing with me about when I will release him from sickbay.  When I talk to him I can even see changes to his brainwave patterns as if he can hear me on some level– but he is still completely unresponsive.  No movement, not even reflex response to physical stimuli.  I wish Deanna was here so we could get a sense of what’s going on in there”  </p><p>“I agree.  We will be rendezvousing with The Greyhawk in 48 hours, so we will have more answers then, when the Counselor is back on board.”  He answered stiffly, not adding that if there was anyone who could reach his first officer it was surely his Imzadi.  Picard still did not understand their link completely, but it was clear that they communicated on a whole different level when it came to each other.  They did not really talk about it, and he was loathe to ask about something so private. </p><p> </p><p>Picard followed Beverly into the treatment room where Dixieland Jazz was playing softly and Will Riker lay motionless, only the steady flickering of the biobed readouts giving indication that he was alive.  “ I thought that he might find the music soothing.  There have been many studies of comatose patients who remember things said to them, or music they heard while in a coma.  When no one is in the room with him we have the music playing so that he has some sort of stimuli.  It’s even better if someone is here talking to him. “  She smiled “I told Data that, so he spent two hours earlier today giving Will a lecture on the chemical makeup of the nebula that we just passed through.  I thought Will might wake up just to ask him to stop.”   </p><p> Picard smiled slightly, remembering a meeting early on in the Enterprises’ mission, where Data had gotten caught up in a technical explanation of the operation of a mining reclamation project on Cygnus Beta.  Will Riker had finally stopped him, saying with a grin “Data!  The human brain can only absorb so much at a time!  Can we have the short version?”  To which Data had replied with quizzical look, followed by a statistic-laden lecture on helpful ways that the commander could optimize his brain’s capacity to absorb technical material.  Picard could still clearly see the expression on his first officer’s face as he wavered between exasperation and bursting into laughter.  </p><p>There were many times like that, Picard reflected, when he would glance at his first officer and see him struggling to maintain an aura of detached professionalism, only to be betrayed by a twinkle of the eye, a smile, or outright laughter.  Riker had struggled mightily with it at first, making an effort to conform to Picard’s own reserved style.  But in the end, Picard reflected, perhaps he was the one who had changed the most.  He had come to place a tremendous value on his first officer’s ability to find joy in his work and the people around him.  </p><p> In Picard’s last command the bridge had been a silent place except for any communication vital to the mission.  His officers and crew were skilled and efficient and adhered to military protocol.  Picard kept his distance, as he felt his position required.</p><p>It was virtually impossible to keep your distance with William Riker, and his first officer's attitude had spread to the senior staff and beyond.  They were still skilled and efficient military officers, but beneath that they were also friends sharing a glorious adventure.  </p><p>“I was going to return to my quarters to read before bed, but perhaps I’ll replicate a book and sit here and read out loud for a bit, if you think it would be beneficial to him, Doctor.”  </p><p>Beverly smiled at him and he was grateful that she didn’t call him an old softy, as he was sure she was thinking.  “I think that would be a wonderful idea.”  She said encouragingly.  “But as for me, I am headed for a shower and bed.  It’s been a long and frustrating day.”</p><p>“You deserve a rest, Doctor.  ”  He agreed as he turned to the replicator to call up a book to read.</p><p>Beverly Crusher leaned over the bed and placed a light kiss on Will Riker’s forehead.  “Goodnight Will.  You plan on waking up in the morning, OK ?”  She straightened and gave Picard a fond smile.  “Good night Jean Luc.”</p><p>"Sleep well, Beverly"  </p><p>The Captain sat and read Shakespeare out loud to his first officer for the next hour.  Finally, closing the book he stood and looked down at Will Riker, who hadn’t moved.   “Well, number one – I am off to bed.  I need my rest since my first officer is playing hooky and I need to cover for him.  I shall see you tomorrow.”</p><p>He headed out the door, but paused for a moment to add  “Computer,  Play Dixieland Jazz.”</p>
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